looking at the sun while listening to moonlit sonata playing symbiotic melodies in my head. my eye spun backwards, a rubber tread mark left on the pavement, some naked angel mistaking neighborhood watch parties for take-out services, mental health facilities aging, capacious sterile hallways of forgotten minds, yesterday's last tuesday was the sunday after march, my recorded aliases lined for miles down eastern avenue. baltimore mortar and molotov cocktail, make merry we ourselves for we can't afford not to. september blooms faded into june, another life passed and waned with you sitting at my bedside. the stable rides in a horse drawn marriage, ladies made cold alabaster under masculine gaze of chiseled paint rub, finger paint a french girl, a nude print whorl on a police identification card, they stamp you at the station, free the nation the right to strip search and seizure for seventy-seven on the dollar, the fiscal holler into frozen well of holy oil, the crab walk toil of men who read books and hope to find truth between sinful words of wish fulfillment, masturbatory rhymes and cadences that tit my own senses but drive everyone else insane, the inane logic of man proclaimed from the highest tight walk.
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